*Please excuse this rambling from my morning run...
This rambling of a tangled web of cluttered thoughts that cloud my brain until I can sort through them on my runs. Put each thought, each doubt, each worry, each fear, each self-hating, negative, horrible criticism in their place. I have a compartment in my brain for each one. I did just that on my run this morning.
The morning was gray, and the sky was crying this gentle, beautiful sprinkle of rain; the kind that leaves your soul cleansed and your mind emptied and your heart open and your spirit renewed. I needed that. I needed my spirit renewed. I needed to feel like myself again. Whole and happy and *together, not the huge, disastrous self I've been lately; walking around in a haze of sugar-coated-everything-is-fineness, when in fact everything has been a little bit hard for me lately. I have a bad attitude and an impatient brain and some days I need help that I don't ask for and what I really want is sleep and I cry sometimes when I'm in the bathroom alone, and I ask God to give me a sign that everything will work out, which I never do. I never ask for signs because I have faith. I have faith that everything will work out like it should.
But last week, my faith faltered and waned and my doubts and fears were bigger than life and I prayed hard for a sign. I shouldn't need a sign if I have faith. I DO know deep down that everything will be ok. It will all work out. And not on my own timeline, that is out of my control.
This morning on my beautiful rainy run, I was brought back to my 16-year-old self who ran in the rain for the first time and my teen-anguished self ran and ran and with each puddle I ran through, I felt heartbreak heal. With each drop of sweat-mixed rain dripping off the tip of my nose, I felt lighter, and my teen problems weren't so all-consuming anymore. That's when I fell in love.
I remember that run like it was yesterday. Sloshy shoes and dripping hair and a happy heart upon return. My rain runs, I remember them all. They are few and far between but they are some of my best runs. They leave me open and transparent and breathless. I looked up to the sky this morning and thanked God once again for making me a runner and giving me the soul and mind and spirit for running because it's not really about the physical self, and all of a sudden I could breathe again.
After two long, hard, bad attitude weeks, I could breathe. I didn't feel suffocated. I didn't feel like I was drowning on land anymore, I wasn't holding on by my fingertips and I felt a little bit free again. I felt myself smile. Just me and my footsteps and the the beat of my heart. And everything will be ok.
I just need to have faith. I need to run and have faith and get more sleep and remember that I'm in good hands. My children, they'll be fine. They'll be ok. They're thriving right now and that's really the only thing that matters. And I'm surviving. Someday I'll be thriving too; but for right now, surviving will do.